Fortune Favours
by MudBlood9
Summary: Ron and Hermione both wonder what they did to deserve one another as they embark on married life, just after securing their careers and their new home. Could they really be that fortunate?  First ever fic, please be gentle with me  HAPPY NEW YEAR xox


Disclaimer: All JK Rowling's characters and themes. I don't own anything. I am just inspired by my heroine to write this **very** fluffy piece of fan fiction about my favourite OTP.

Ron and Hermione both wonder what they did to deserve one another, as they embark on married life, just after securing their careers and their new home. Could they really be _that_ fortunate?

"_You've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know? Just there"_

Ron sat up in bed abruptly, having just relived his first ever Hogwarts journey in what was one of the oddest dreams he'd had in a while. He couldn't say it was a nightmare as such, but he hadn't had a dream about his earlier childhood since, well, he was a child. In it, this annoying, bossy, shrill-voiced, bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl, already wearing her Hogwarts robes, was helping Neville Longbottom look for his missing toad Trevor. She couldn't just ask and then leave, she had to continue a conversation about what magic she already knew, and then proceed to tell him and Harry that they ought to change into their robes. Ron smiled at the memory. At the time he remembered just wanting her to leave. She was _girl_ after all, and she was bossy, and evidently she knew more magic than he did. He'd had a feeling even then that he'd be seeing, and definitely hearing, a lot more of this girl at school.

Ron glanced to his left at his sleeping wife. Wife – he liked that word. He liked the way it sounded when he said it, and even more so when others referred to this quite stunning woman as _his_ wife. _His_ wife! Not Krum's, not McClaggen's,_ not Harry's_, and not that cocksure failed Auror wizard who worked in Hermione's department at the Magical Law Enforcement Office who kept flirting with her at every opportunity. In fact Ron's paranoia about 'other blokes checking out' his wife and/or making advances toward her were a source of a number of arguments between himself and Hermione. She would accuse him of not trusting her enough to be relaxed about it, and he would accuse her of enjoying the attention. The make-up sex after such a row, though, was well worth it, Ron thought with a slight smirk. Angry sex always made Hermione a little more adventurous and controlling. One thing Ron prided himself on knowing about Hermione that not another soul knew – Hermione could be positively _wild and dirty_ in the sack.

Ron looked over at the Muggle digital alarm clock on Hermione's bedside cabinet. It was 02:30 in the morning and he'd have to be up in 3 hours for Dark Arts Auror training. He supposed he ought to get some shut-eye before that retched 'clock' screeched at him to get up. He lay back down behind his wife, spooning her, knowing that even in her sleep she would snuggle back into him for his body warmth. It was a habit of Hermione's that he adored in her, but it was difficult when he was away on Auror training expeditions because he missed her, and hated knowing he wasn't there to keep her safe and warm. But for now, he would just let his tired eyes drift shut as he hugged his wife to him, and wondered what he had ever done to deserve such a wonderful woman.

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had married just over a month ago, in a small, discreet ceremony in a Muggle town hall not far from Hermione's parents' home. Witnesses included a Muggle couple waiting to get married after them, an old neighbour from Hermione's street, and Luna Lovegood, who had suggested eloping as a means of avoiding a huge fuss in the first place.

The fuss there had been surrounding Percy and Audrey's wedding; Harry and Ginny's, George and Angelina's, neither Ron nor Hermione wanted so much upheaval and interference. So they eloped, knowing it would upset both sets of parents and a fair few others, but also knowing they wanted to do things their way. They would plan a vow renewal ceremony in which Hermione's father would be able to give his only daughter away in the summer when everything was more settled.

But they'd wanted to marry quickly, not just for "guilt-free sex", as Hermione had put it, but to secure their legal rights as homeowners on magical acreage; to receive a blessing from Merlin – something Ron was sceptical about, but Luna had insisted it would bring good long-term luck to their relationship, and most of all, because they were in love, and wanted to make it official as soon as possible.

Hermione woke with a start. She never did sleep well when she knew one or both of them had a particularly early start. As her eyes came into focus in the dark she could see the alarm clock's bright red digits telling her it was 04:10 in the morning. Ron would need to be up and out for his Dark Arts Auror training in the catacombs deep beneath Southwark Cathedral in a little over an hour, so although she could feel his body warmth behind her, and feel his soft breath in her hair, she daren't nudge him awake for a 'quickie'.

Early morning sex was usually a great way of waking Ron up ready for his day, but since he had a very testing day ahead of him, Hermione thought it best to let him get as much sleep as possible. So she slipped a hand down between her thighs and rubbed gently, to try and ease the ache that had quickly developed there. She suspected Ron was having one of his 'hot' dreams again because she could feel his manhood throbbing in the cleft of her backside, which only served to make her situation more urgent. However, in the position she was lying in it was difficult to part her legs enough to get at the spot that needed attention. She could feel her juices flowing as Ron's breathing laboured slightly, and his hips began thrust against her. She wanted nothing more than to turn to face him, roll him onto his back and ride him to ecstasy. Instead she shifted a few inches away from him so she could lay on her back, part her legs and ease her ache. Her plan, however, was short-lived. Ron's arms reached for her and pulled her back to him. He mumbled something, and Hermione looked up at his face to see his eyes slightly open.

"Are you awake, Ron?" she whispered. He didn't answer, just hummed something unintelligible and slid a large hand up her satin pyjama top and over one breast, gently squeezing a nipple between two fingers. Hermione gasped, and smiled, knowing that whilst Ron was probably still groggy and half-asleep, he was certainly aware of what he was doing. Ron then withdrawn his hand and began fumbling around under the duvet before scooting over to Hermione and snatching her pyjama bottoms down her legs and opening her pyjama top. He was on top of her suckling her breasts, one after the after, before she even had time to tease him about his _sweet dreams_, those dreams that always had him waking up with the _father_ of all stiffies, and wanting to shag her senseless.

"Ron?"

"Hmmm"

"Hadn't you…hadn't you ought…to get…some sleep…you'll be exhausted…by the time…"

"Nmmm, want you. Want you now"

Hermione's heart leapt as she threw her arms over Ron's broad shoulders, caressing the impossibly soft skin of his back and giggling at the tickling of his hair under her chin as he continued to lavish attention on her breasts. She could feel the wet tip of his manhood on her upper thigh but couldn't help but think that wasn't the place she wanted to feel it. She grabbed Ron's head and brought his face to hers to kiss him, morning breath and all. He tasted of shortbread biscuits and Horlicks, and of Ron. And she could now feel his throbbing hard manhood nestled between her nether lips, and her hips automatically pushed up to meet his, to get more friction. To feel more of this magnificent wizard who could set her body alight with one look. A man she wasn't always sure she deserved, but was so very grateful to have as her own, her husband.

Ron could feel Hermione's hot, moist heat beneath his manhood, and had to work very hard to suppress the urge to just slide into her and start pistoning away like a locomotive. He wanted her to climax at least twice before he did himself. So he proceeded to slowly roll his hips against hers, sliding his manhood along her slick slit, eliciting moans, back arches and hair-pulling from the quite beautiful young witch beneath him. He knew he could bring her off this way. It was the way in which they'd pleasured each other for months after they first started dating. Penetrative sex was something Hermione had made him wait quite some time for, and though frustrated at times, he understood why. But he tried not to think about that as he snaked a hand down between them and pressed the pad of his thumb to Hermione's clit, and gently rubbed. He daren't recall what she'd told him the first time they'd been ready to have any sort of sexual intimacy. It was something she'd kept to herself for so long. Only she, and those who been in the drawing room at Malfoy Manor would have known.

Ron had to shake those thoughts away. Besides, it was all in the past. Hermione was a happy, confident young woman now, without the hang-ups and insecurities about her body she used to have, and what some now dead monsters had done to her back in those dark days was now a distant memory for the woman who was positively mewling out her orgasm beneath him.

As she came down from her orgasm, trembling yet not _entirely_ sated, Hermione attempted to sit up so she could roll Ron onto his back and ride him. But this time he stilled her, kissed her oh-so-gently, and thrust forward. They then held on to each other and kissed tenderly has they set a slow and steady rhythm. Even after two years of regular sex Hermione still always felt stretched when Ron was inside her. Not just because he was a well-endowed Weasley, or even because she was a petite woman, but because there was always that couple of seconds in which she tensed when he entered her, the remnant of a memory she worked hard every day to bury.

But this was Ron, and he was _hers_, and she loved him more than she could ever think it possible to love someone. She'd loved him for as long as she could remember. He made her feel like a goddess, and after everything they'd gone through together with Harry, she'd come too far to let one horrific night 5 years ago spoil her sexual relationship with a man who was her _life_.

They both knew each other's bodies enough to anticipate the signs of oncoming climax, and each waited for the other to reach the precipice before going over the edge, together. Hermione revelling in that warm feeling of having Ron ejaculate inside her as he held her tight, told her he loved her, and shook with the sheer intensity of it. Ron revelled in the feeling of his dream girl - a girl he'd spent man a night in his teens wanking over - lying beneath him; him being buried in her silky warmth, in being in her soft embrace and in her telling him she loved him too, as her inner muscles contracted around him. Could he really be that lucky? Was this all a dream that he would one day wake up from and find he was back in his bed at Hogwarts, humping his pillow? He pondered everything that had happened since those spotty, awkward, fumbling hormonal teenage days. He wondered if he'd needed to have that slap and tickle_ fling_ with Lavender Brown just to help him realise how much he really wanted and _needed_ Hermione. But then she'd chosen him, after everything he'd said and done to her, she'd still chosen _him_. He couldn't be that lucky. This _really was_ all a dream, wasn't it? And any minute now…

BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP…

Bloody Muggle alarm clock! Well that settled it. This wasn't a dream. It really _was_ real, and Hermione _really was_ his. He smiled, and hugged her to him as she kissed his chest and told him to get up.

Hermione sat up, propped her pillows up behind her and then lay back and watched as a naked-from-the-waist-down Ron switched on the bedroom light with that bloody Deluminator of his, and then set about rifling through his wardrobe looking for whatever he was going to wear, throwing items of clothing all over the place. Hermione was too happy to get annoyed with him; too horny from looking down at Ron's appendage swinging all over the place as he busied himself, and partly planning out her day in her head. She had the day off, and would spend it by resuming her translation of the original runes from the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_, which she was already half-way through completing. She'd then go to see her parents, do a bit of food shopping at the Muggle farmer's market over in Truro, before cooking up a hearty meal for her husband when he got home.

And if someone had told her she would do something like that 10 years ago she would have spat fire. Now, she actually enjoyed cooking for her husband and doing things that made him happy, and she looked forward to many years of the same, possible with children in their future. Could that fairytale really happen to a geeky, bushy-haired Muggleborn witch like her?

"Earth to Hermione" Ron was saying as Hermione's eyes refocused and looked up at her husband standing there with his Chudley Cannons shirt in one hand and navy fleece in the other. "which one?"

"The fleece" she answered. "More professional if you're at work, Ron. Especially that sort of work, in those catacombs with…oh my…" Hermione's eyes had trailed down Ron's body to see his manhood jutted out from his hips and proudly saluting her. She giggled, and rubbed her thighs together, knowing there wasn't really time for another 'go'.

"That's your fault, that is" Ron laughed, looking down at himself and swinging his hips from side-to-side, making his erection wave. "You look so sexy just lying there propped up on your pillows with your boobies poking out over the top of the duvet that _he_ couldn't help but notice".

Hermione chuckled, and then licked her lips and wondered if she might get an early morning snack in. Ron knew that lustful look in his wife's eyes anywhere, and tossed his clothes up in the air and leapt onto the bed, kicking the duvet out the way. He parted Hermione's legs almost immediately and dived straight in, nipping and licking at her engorged folds. She grinned broadly as she encouraged him to swing his body around so that she could taste him too. And by the end of it, when both were as exhausted as they were sated, they realised they'd be lucky if either got any work at all done today.

_Finite Peepingtomtum_

A/N Thank you to the reviewer who pointed out my Auror spelling mistakes ([blushes]). I've also tried to correct a few other typos. I know I need to proof-read a lot better. First-time nerves etc...


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